The boatswain’s whistle cut across the low mumble of the assembled gamma shift crew as Captain Tanek took a step forward, a quiet thud punctuated the crewman’s call to attention as the audience’s boots hit the deck simultaneously. Atop the thin crate that had hastily been covered by the deck crew to provide a small dias, Tanek took in the room. A field of dour faces cast in a sea of yellow took Tanek back to a pleasant trip to Earth’s Greek islands when he was a new officer; where they had turned a corner to be confronted by a sea of sunflowers, waving in the wind, twisting towards the baking sun. Bittersweet in remembrance Tanek wondered how many of his travelling companions had been lost to the Frontier Day incident. The assembled crew, many of whom were junior or enlisted, stood attentive but shaken, many swaying gently as they each attempted to process the enormity of recent events. For the third time that day, Tanek cleared his throat and reached forward to place a hand on the empty torpedo casing draped with a Federation flag. His words caught in his throat as he examined the back of his wrinkled hand, marked with experiences those victims would never now have.

“This is not the first time the Federation has faced such difficult moments, unfortunately our history is littered with instances of communal mourning. For some of you though, this will be the first time that it has found a personal connection, where you have been struck at the heart.” He took a breath, passing an eye over the assembled crew. “We gather today to remember those have taken the next journey. Our fallen family and friends who departed too soon from our stories, who we now entrust to the endless tides of the universe.” Reaching forward with his other hand the captain closed the small access port, sealing away the treasure of small personal memorials. Pictures of fallen friends, last messages to stolen loved ones, too late now to be transmitted, and memoirs of happier times, now cherished even more sweetly. As the port closed with a click he glimpsed his own note; a small missive scrawled on a tightly folded piece of paper, ‘I’m sorry, but you already knew that.’ 

“We do not know why Daedalus escaped the effects of the signal from Jupiter, nor do we know why our small family here was spared the horrors of the Borg plot.” A few crewmembers shifted uncomfortably, the younger members of the crew had been quickly confined once news had reached Daedalus from Starfleet of the Borg plot. A palpable tension had settled in the quiet corridors of the small ship as trust hovered on the edge of the knife, it was with some difficulty that Tanek had managed to stay the hand of more militant members of the crew.  Now every crew member had been processed through Admiral Crusher’s transporter treatment, life could slowly begin to return to normal. The trust would take much longer to return, if it ever could.

“In the coming days there will be many investigations… reviews… examinations… analysis. They will all attempt to justify and assign blame to this event, to make sense of something senseless.” He noticed a young Trill Ensign, tears rolling down their cheeks, did the best to maintain their composure as a sea of sadness rolled tempestuously behind red eyes. At its heart there was a storm of anger, of resentment, of fury. “We will all find it easy to assign blame, to the Borg, to the Admiralty, to each other and to ourselves.” The young Trill officer looked like they might begin weeping, ragged breaths rattling in their throat as Tanek approached. “We must remember kindness in these days.” He raised a hand to the young ensigns shoulder, deep brown eyes gazed back to him. “We must be kind to one another as we take the next step in our journey.”

He carried on past the crew, towards the large open shuttle bay doors where the distant sun of the Jenkins system cast out energy into the cold void. “Now is the time to celebrate. To laugh at our happy memories and cherish the moments of joy we shared with our lost loved ones.” He stopped short of the terminal stand, setting his face and stifling a tear before he turned back to the assembled mourners. “We remember those we lost and in their name we will continue the story for them. We will take them with us to the next star, we will travel with them behind the next moon and we will hold them in our hearts as we cross the next horizon.” Nodding to the crewman at the far end of the deck Tanek stood to attention as the boatswains whistle cut across the room once more. 

The black cased memorial floated silently from its stand as the shuttle bays miniature tractor beams carefully lifted the pod and carried it to the open bay doors. A sizzle hissed through the silent room as it slipped through the forcefield, an almost imperceptible pulse from the tractor beam sent it floating onward. A long moment of silence hung in the air. Then the whistle cut across the room a final time, dispatching their memories toward the undiscovered country.